Protector: Foreigner #14 (15 page)

“That rests with your great-grandmother, young gentleman,” Bren said. “You will have to ask her. And do be somewhat prepared for her to forbid it: we have some security concerns, and you know such situations can change on very short notice.”

“But is there a
chance,
nandi?”

“There is a chance, but one cannot promise: we get our advice from our bodyguards. And one has no idea what their landing schedule is, nor are they likely to decide it yet—as with all these things, they will watch the weather.”

“Is it going to be good weather? I hope it will be good weather.”

In point of fact he had absolutely no idea what the weather was outside. It could be pouring a monsoon over the city, and he had been so locked in his work, in an apartment without windows, and offices without windows, that he had not the least notion what was going on in the natural world.

“I shall inquire,” he said. But Cajeiri’s question to his own bodyguard brought the answer that, indeed, it had just been raining, but the weather was due to clear tomorrow.

“I hope they may hurry,” Cajeiri said.

“They will be down in good weather, likely morning after next, young gentleman.”

“Might we go to Najida and go on your boat, nand’ Bren?”

“Only your great-grandmother and your parents can say that, young gentleman.” He could not fault the boy for being excited and full of ideas. But negotiating with a Marid warlord was no more strain than dealing with Cajeiri—who had his hopes all up and a justified fear that everything could fall apart on some adult whim. He would not promise things not in his hands. He could not appear to promise anything, and the boy had more changes of direction than Malguri’s upland roads.

“When do you think they will actually land?” the boy asked. “At what hour?”

“All depending on the weather, young gentleman. You know these things. You took the same flight.”

“I was not entirely paying attention,” Cajeiri said, looking down, then up, sharply. “And I was upset about my birthday, nandi.”

It
had
been that time of year, when all hell had broken loose.

“And anyway,” Cajeiri said, “we were going to land over on Mospheira, not in the aishidi’tat.”

“It is very little difference,” Bren said, “when you are moving that fast. You would only be a few minutes off.”

“Can we see them land? Can we be there to watch?”

“Ask your great-grandmother such things, young gentleman.” He had
so
many things he had to do, letters he had to write, arrangements to make before things started moving—but he was not about to leave the young gentleman unattended and in a state of high excitement.

He was very relieved when Jago came in to say they had been in touch with Cenedi, that they had informed the dowager as requested, and that the dowager was arriving to take charge of her grandson—and his baggage—at any moment.

“Well,” Bren began, but just then came a knock at the door, and it opened. That, he was sure, would be Ilisidi herself, or at very least, Cenedi.

Rescue.

“I am sure we will take care of Boji for you,” Bren said to his young guest. “I have ordered sufficient eggs.”

“He likes them raw, nandi.”

“One is not surprised to hear it.”

“You just give them to him. But sometimes we boil one. For a joke. He will eat it. But it confuses him.”

“We shall never have eggs left over from breakfast, then.” He rose, thinking he would have to meet Ilisidi, and
offer
to keep Boji.

The door opened. Jeladi ducked in, shut the door at his back and bowed. “Nandi. Lord
Tatiseigi
is in the foyer, nandi.”

He tried not to register utter dismay. One thing was certain: he could not sit in lordly splendor in his sitting room and ask Tatiseigi be brought in like some visiting client. He bowed to his young guest, and went to the door as Jeladi opened it.

Indeed, Lord Tatiseigi, with his full bodyguard, stood in the foyer, awaiting the courtesy of his appearance.

“Nandi,” Bren said, “you are very welcome here. Do accept the hospitality of the sitting room. The aiji-dowager or her bodyguard will be here at any moment to pick up the young gentleman. I took your arrival for hers. Would you care for tea?”

“Things are running in a very slipshod way, nandi. This spaceship is proceeding ahead of plans and we hear only by our bodyguard’s advisement that the young gentleman has been turned out and sent here—with no warning, nandi, with no notice at all. We hope that there is some
planning
involved in this!”

He was not about to explain Geigi’s meddling with the shuttle launch schedule. Tatiseigi liked all events well-planned, on firm schedules. He simply said, “Once the young gentleman knew the shuttle was coming, he was very anxious to be underway, nandi, and you and the dowager have been so very involved in the committee meeting . . .”

“Which is over,” Tatiseigi said somewhat more mildly.

“One heard it had gone well, with all gratitude to your efforts, indeed. I listened from the tea room, discreetly. I was available to get the message, and I was able to be here to meet the young gentleman. And to take custody of the young gentleman’s parid’ja, which needs to be housed, temporarily.” He was absolute sure Tatiseigi would not want
that
duty.

“Uncle,” Cajeiri said from the doorway.

“My boy,” Tatiseigi said. “We trust you have not been a burden to the paidhi.”

“No, Great-uncle! Nand’ Bren has been explaining the shuttle schedule. And he says we might go to Najida!”

“I said,” Bren said quietly and quickly—a visit to Najida surely
not
being Tatiseigi’s fondest wish—“that all such questions would be the dowager’s to decide.”

“Well!” Tatiseigi said. “How would you like to go to Tirnamardi instead, young gentleman, and ride mecheiti?”

Tatiseigi’s estate? With human guests? Three—possibly four—very
young
human guests?

He thought of his conversation with Jago, in the servants’ bath.

And that with Geigi, in his office.

But Cajeiri didn’t waste a second.

“To
Tirnamardi,
Great-uncle?”

“We have made arrangements with your great-grandmother, considering this madness with the shuttle schedule and the inconvenience of having these guests in residence in the Bujavid. We have
ample
room.”

And Kadagidi clan next door. And a feud with Ajuri, not that far to the north.

“Yes!”
the young rascal cried. “Oh,
yes!
”

“Well, well,” Tatiseigi said. “You shall, then!” He turned a glance toward Bren. “These young people do not speak Ragi, do they?”

“It is not likely they do, beyond a few words, nandi.”

“Well, then, nand’ paidhi, so the aiji-dowager said, and you will surely attend,” Tatiseigi said. And added, whimsically, “I do trust your aishid will
not
blow up another of my bedrooms!”

“Assuredly not, nandi!”

Oh, the man was in a good mood. But he could not be taking possession of Cajeiri and taking him off to his apartment, however short the walk—he had promised Tabini to take the boy into
his
keeping, and that was what was authorized. Tano and Algini had an unobstructed view, where they were standing, and he passed an emergency hand-signal that non-Guild were not supposed to use.

“The aiji-dowager is on her way, nandi,” Tano said immediately.

“Indeed,” Bren said. “Lord Tatiseigi, will you like a pot of tea, and to wait for the dowager?”

“We have had tea enough at the legislative reception,” Tatiseigi said, not budging, “but so, well, we shall wait. Will you need to send for riding clothes, nephew?”

“No, Great-uncle. I have everything with me.”

“Who has seen to your wardrobe, young man? Has your father’s staff?”

“I have
servants,
now, Great-uncle! I have my
own
staff.”

“With you?”

“Indeed, Great-uncle, I have two servants and my bodyguard.”

“Well, well,” Tatiseigi said. “Servants, indeed! Have you a warm coat? Formal clothing as well?”

“One had thought we might go to Najida, Great-uncle, or Malguri, so I have everything in my baggage.”

“Exemplary foresight,” Tatiseigi said. “Exemplary! Well. Well.” They were standing with enough Guild in attendance for a small war, with Tatiseigi’s bodyguards outside and Cajeiri’s four and Banichi and Jago now in the foyer, and Tatiseigi in the doorway itself so that Narani had not been able to close it.

But they were about to acquire a fourth set of bodyguards. Bren heard the sounds of another approach to the door, men’s footsteps, and the light tap of Ilisidi’s cane on the stone flooring of the hall.

He was not the only one hearing it. “Mani is coming,” Cajeiri said, and indeed, Tatiseigi’s bodyguard moved out of the way in advance of that oncoming presence.

Tap. Tap. Tap. At her own pace, Ilisidi appeared in the doorway.

“Well,” she said, resting hands on her cane. “Well, Great-grandson. Tati-ji. Nand’ paidhi. Are we holding a meeting in the hallway?”

“Mani, Great-uncle has said we shall go to Tirnamardi!”

“That we shall,” she said, both hands on her cane, with Cenedi and her guard behind her. “We shall go to the spaceport, gather up your young guests, and take them to enjoy a healthful sojourn in the country. Nand’ paidhi, we trust you can clear your schedule to go with us.”

Her idea. Or Cenedi’s. He recalled, again, that conversation in the bath. The business about positioning forces.

“I am in process of doing that right now, aiji-ma.”

“Well, well, we shall have a day or two to see the bill passed. You are packed, nand’ paidhi?”

“I shall be, aiji-ma.”

“Tati-ji?”

“My staff will assure it,” Tatiseigi said.

“Well, we all three will be busy. Lord Tatiseigi and I will speak for the bill in the tashrid tomorrow. We expect the paidhi-aiji will have a statement to read into the record.”

“I have it ready, aiji-ma.”

“Dur will present it. Tati-ji, we expect you at dinner this evening. We shall discuss our strategy over brandy. We would expect that the paidhi-aiji’s staff has prepared a dinner here, and that there might be sufficient for my grandson.”

That was to say, stay home. Take care of the boy and his staff. Keep him contained.

They were about to do something entirely outrageous and take the boy and his guests to a venue they
knew
had security problems, and the person who most fiercely protected the boy was
driving
this insane venture, for reasons she was not going to explain right now. He understood that part clearly. And that
yes
was all he
could
say.

“Easily, aiji-ma.
And
we shall see to the parid’ja.” Whatever her plans, the dowager needed to know that the creature had become part of the arrangement.

“The parid’ja,” Ilisidi echoed him in a little dismay. And to her great-grandson: “Was this arranged?”

Cajeiri put on a worried face. “My servants are with me, mani, and there would be no one in my father’s apartment to take care of him.”

Ilisidi drew a deep breath. “Well.” And cast a questioning look at Bren.

“Aiji-ma, one is certain we shall manage. Whether he will go with us . . .”

“May he, mani?” Cajeiri asked. “He has his cage, Great-grandmother! It is a very secure cage! It has rollers!”

Tatiseigi had no expression at all for the moment. Tatiseigi’s desire to move the young gentleman into his vicinity had been strong enough even to accommodate young humans, at least conceptually—perhaps imagining they, like the paidhi-aiji, had acquired atevi virtues and could eat arsenic with abandon.

Boji, however, was surely another matter.

“My servants, mani, they know how to take care of him, so he is no trouble. He is
very
clean, Great-uncle!”

Tatiseigi’s mouth opened. His expressionlessness showed a struggle to warm to the idea. A heartbeat later he said, “One can agree, Sidi-ji, if you wish,” and he was committed to it.

Bren almost said, in the next breath, One is certain my staff could manage . . . in the thought that the steadiness of Tatiseigi’s nerves was going to be tested far enough, with Cajeiri’s guests.

But the dowager had already nodded. Cajeiri had heard the one and seen the other. And that was that.

•   •   •

As many teacakes as he could eat, before a very good dinner, with nand’ Bren’s whole aishid and his own all at the table, and another dessert after dinner—that was last night; and Cajeiri enjoyed a really comfortable guest room with room for everybody in their own little cubicles.

And in the morning he could sleep late, with no tutor, no need to get up early, nand’ Bren had said, and it was such a quiet household—

Except for Boji, who wanted his egg. Boji started to make a fuss, out in the sitting area.

But Eisi had an egg all ready, since last night: he was always good about that. And Cajeiri just pulled the covers over his head, snuggled into abundant pillows, and fell back to sleep on thoughts that the shuttle with his associates aboard was flying through space, getting harder and harder to turn back. Pretty soon not even his father would be able to stop it, because it would be committing itself to the atmosphere.

When he did wake, very late, at one of Boji’s little shrieks, he scrambled out of bed in a sudden fear that maybe things were not going so well, and he had been out of touch for hours and hours.

He found all his aishid on the other side of the partition, playing cards in the sitting area, and his servants trying to hush Boji with another egg.

“Jeri-ji,” Jegari said.

“Is there any news yet?”

“Regarding the shuttle, none that we know. But nand’ Bren’s staff is packing, so everything seems on schedule. He is in his office, and Banichi-nadi says your great-grandmother and Lord Tatiseigi are in the legislative session, so everything there is what they planned.”

He slowly let go a breath, relieved.

“Understand,” Lucasi said, “nandi, nand’ Bren’s aishid has given us
some
cautions, that we should bring all our gear, and that there will be very high security everywhere.”